The Gift
by i'mnotcrazy82
Summary: House pays Cuddy and Rachel an unexpected visit on the eighth day of Chanukah.  Very fluffy holiday one-shot.  Huddy.


_**A/N - I meant to post this during Chanukah, but I became sick and forgot about it. My apologies for it being very, very fluffy and perhaps a bit (or, more than a bit OOC)**_

_**I own nothing, but I thank TPTB for sharing their toys :-)  
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_**The Gift**_

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It was cold for early December in Jersey. Greg House was reluctant to leave the relative warmth of his car, even though the heater was sputtering. He glanced in the passenger's seat, eying the shiny royal blue gift bag with the white menorah on it; Wilson's work. Everything else was his idea, and he had spent the money. He bit his lip; it was too late to go back now. He sighed, then opened the driver's door to get out, noting that it was sticking a little. Maybe it was time to get a "new" car. He reached back inside and picked up the bag, but also gingerly picked up his backpack in the back seat, being careful not to jostle it too much.

This was a mistake, he could just feel it. Apprehension gnawed at his gut, and he felt his fingers tighten up around the glossy bag's fragile handles. The cold air stung his lungs, and he could feel it creep through the collar of his coat, chilling his spine. A bright winter's moon reflected on the thin coating of snow they had gotten earlier that day, just enough to cover the grass, but the temperature had been dropping steadily since the front had passed through late that afternoon.

By now, the celebration would be over, and most of Lisa Cuddy's guests would have left. Her mother would be there, of course, and maybe Wilson. A few others might linger, but for the most part, everyone would have left. It was well enough; if there were more people there, he might have backed out. As it was, he felt nervous enough.

He slowly limped up the concretes steps leading to her porch. He carefully positioned his backpack in it's natural position over his shoulder, being careful of its contents. He took a deep breath, and knocked on the front door, rather than barging in like he always did. He wanted to do this right.

Cuddy answered, stunned that he had knocked. "House?" she asked, a little taken aback that he had appeared on her doorstep. After all, he hated religious celebrations even more than he hated socializing with people he didn't know. Her eyes trailed down to the glossy blue bag.

"It's for Rachel," he said quickly, his nerves on edge. He wished he had some vicodin at the moment, just to take the edge off. Instead, he glanced down, appreciating her low cut top and form fitting matching royal blue sweater, just a few shades darker than the blue on the bag.

"Wow," Cuddy breathed. "Thanks. I'm sure she'll love it." She looked at him, a small, though suspicious smile forming on her face.

"So, can I come in, or am I gonna give it to her on the porch?" He raised his eyebrows, suppressing a shudder. The cold bit at him, cutting through the heavy denim of jeans and wool of his heavy coat. His thigh gave a twinge, protesting the bitter chill, despite the extra ibuprofen he had taken earlier.

Cuddy turned a bright shade of red. "Sorry," she moved out of the doorway, allowing him to step inside. In a low voice, she told him, "I thought you hated these things. I didn't think you were going to come."

He gave a slight twitch of the shoulders. "Yeah." He gingerly set the backpack down on the floor, setting the gift bag next to it. "I heard this is the can't miss gala of the season," he teased, shrugging off his coat, tossing it in the coat closet, out of sight. He picked up both bags. "So, where's mini-Cuddy at?"

Cuddy gave him a warm smile. "She's in the den, with my mom and Wilson." The headed towards the den slowly. "What made you change your mind?" She asked, then glanced at the blue bag. "What did you bring her."

He gave her a wolfish grin in reply. "That's for me to know, and you to find out," he gave her a little wink, then he made his appearance.

Wilson sat on the cream colored sofa, a glass of rich red wine in his hand, watching as Rachel played with a teddy bear that seemed to repeat what you said to it. Cuddy's mother, a handsome woman in her late sixties, watched from an upholstered chair next to an end table. A silver menorah sat on the mantel, all eight candles lit, but, by now, all the prayers had been said, gifts had been given, and most of the guests had cleared away.

"Greg," Cuddy's mother's mouth twisted up in a small smirk of greeting. "Lisa told us that you wouldn't be coming." She raised an elegantly arched dark eyebrow, giving him a look that he had seen from her daughter too many times to count.

"Plans change," he gave her a little wink, taking a seat next to Wilson on the couch, putting his bags on the floor next to him. He exchanged a quick, knowing look with Wilson, before settling back.

"Do you want a glass of wine?" Cuddy asked, looking at him, puzzled. He knew she wanted to know what was in the bag; what he had gotten Rachel.

"Yes, please," he gave her a wide smile, then settled back against the pillows. Cuddy left the room for a moment, and Rachel kept playing with the teddy. "Taddy, Taddy, Taddy," she repeated, talking to the furry toy. House cocked his head to one side, watching her as the bear responded in a mechanical voice "Taddy, Taddy, Taddy." She giggled, squeezing the toy close to her.

Cuddy brought the wine, and she leaned over him, trying to peer inside the bag. "Ah, ah, ah, Cuddy," House chided, giving her a small kiss on the lips. "It's for your rugrat," he gave her a little wink."

"Then why don't you let her open it?" Cuddy asked, sitting on the couch between he and Wilson. At that moment, Rachel looked over at House, and saw the glossy blue bag. "Present!" she squealed, crawling over.

With a wide smile, he handed Rachel the large bag, and she began to tear the white tissue paper out of it. Then, she pouted as she pulled out a bag of stuffed mice laced with catnip, and then, some balls with bells in them. Cuddy's mom gave House an angry look. "Did you confuse my granddaughter for a cat?" she asked, her mouth curling up bitterly.

Cuddy gave him a hurt look. "House, what's this about," she asked, as Rachel pulled out a plastic water dish with paw prints all over it, then a matching food dish.

He looked deep in her eyes. "Trust me," he said, squeezing her hand. Rachel pulled the last item out of the bag, a fuzzy, faux sheepskin lined blanket. Cuddy's mother gave him a bitter, angry look. Rachel looked up at him, confused. "Is all?"

House shook his head, then reached for is book bag. He slowly unzipped it, then he reached inside. All three Cuddy women's eyes were on him as he pulled his hand out, gently cupping a tiny gray and white kitten with a big blue bow tied to a matching collar around it's neck. Rachel's eyes grew as big as saucers. "KITTY" she shouted, reaching out her hands to grab the tiny cat.

House jerked his hand out of her reach. "No, no," he chided gently. "Gentle, gentle. You don't want to hurt the kitty, do you?" He scooted down to the floor, swearing softly as the cat dug its claws into his shirt as he cradled it against his chest. He gently pulled it away, then he motioned Rachel to crawl closer. He took her chubby hand in his, then showed her how to stroke the tiny cat. "Easy," he told her, pulling her hand from it's ears to tail.

"Easy," she repeated, awed. Then, he put it in her arms, where it started purring contentedly. "Kitty, easy." She said, petting the kitten, then she looked up at her mom with a huge smile on her face. "Kitty."

"Yes," Cuddy said with a strained smile. "Kitty." Then she turned to House. "Why did you..?" she trailed off, puzzled at his actions

"I heard you say something a few weeks ago about maybe getting a kitten for her," he shrugged.

Wilson broke in, "he told me, then I over heard one of the nurses in oncology talking to another about how their cat just had kittens. House and I went over and checked them out. We spotted that one, and it was so even tempered. House thought it'd be perfect for Rachel. He paid to have a vet check it out, so it's up to date on all it's shots.

"Other than that, it was free," he gave Cuddy a smile.

"We were afraid of the chance that Rachel might be allergic," Wilson continued, obviously relishing being the big secret keeper, "so we snuck her into the Clinic last week when you were on that conference trip to Philly, and we did a allergy test on her."

"Once that was done, all we had to do was wait," House gave her a smug grin as he stood up, sliding back onto the couch.

"Right." Cuddy pursed her lips, not knowing if she should be upset or not. She looked up at her mother, who was gushing along with her daughter at the small animal, who seemed to be happy to be the center of attention. She had to admit, it was pretty clever, what he did, and she decided that she would worry about being upset about it later. She curled up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. He instinctively put his arm around her, softly, almost absently, rubbing her back. This was still odd, but strangely comfortable, she thought.

Wilson excused himself, saying it was late, and he had to work tomorrow, and her mother offered to put Rachel to bed, who wanted to take Kitty with her. House stirred, almost asleep on the couch, comfortable after his nervousness at giving Rachel her gift. "Damn," he muttered, passing his hand over his face. "I shoulda had Wilson bring in the kitty litter box and litter from the trunk of my car."

"I still can't believe you did that," Cuddy rolled her eyes at him. "I said I was _thinking_ about getting Rachel a kitten or a puppy, not that I was _going _to get her one."

He gave her an odd look. "She'll thank you, later." He focused his eyes on the flickering candles. "I always wanted a pet, growing up," he admitted, softly. "A dog, actually. We always moved around, never owning a house until I was in high school, so, we couldn't." He looked at Cuddy, interlacing his fingers with hers. "I like dogs," he admitted, "but with our crazy schedules, taking care of a hyperactive puppy is out of the question. The kitten will be much easier to take care of." He gave her a small grin. "No early morning walks, or loud barking."

She rubbed his knobby knuckles with the pad of her thumb. "It was perfect, House." She leaned in and gave him a kiss. "Thank you."

He leaned into her, deepening the kiss, his hand slipping to the back of her head, pressing her into him. They finally slowly broke apart, both breathless. "Happy Chanukah, Cuddy," he whispered, dragging the pad of his thumb over her slightly swollen lips.

She ran her hand over his cotton covered chest. "Happy Chanukah, House," she whispered back, standing up. She helped him to his feet, then she put on her winter coat. "And," she said in a louder, much sterner voice, though her gray eyes were twinkling, "you're on permanent litter duty. Effective immediately."

He smirked at her, then grabbed her hand as they made their way out to his car.

-End-

**_Just another quick note - I'm not Jewish, but I did google Chanukah to learn more about it. Unfortunately, that only makes me just a little more educated and far from an expert in any sense of the word. I apologize right now if anything in my meager descriptions is incorrect. It's not my wish to offend anyone._**

**_Thanks, and i hoped you liked it_**


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